The Luminous Beings
by ShogunNatarii
Summary: A prequel to FentonHardyFan's (Siblings') "Stuck In An Elevator". Collab between myself and Darth Namialus, who will be contributing ideas to the story, and writing every other chapter. :D I have the honor of presenting you with the first chapter! :D Told in my first person, and the chapters written by Nam will be in his first person. Enjoy! :D Please R & R!
1. Chapter 1: Pursuit

"I _won't _let you kill an _innocent man_," said a figure draped in black, a hood hiding his face. He pulled from his cape dual lightsabers and ignited the glowing, bright red blades at his sides. I could feel the Dark Side flow through him, but it was quite strange for a Sith to be saving lives. Who _was_ he? And was he crazy? Who interferes with something like this, anyway?

"A _Sith_?" replied a bounty hunter, confused, whose body was covered from head to toe in thick armor. Large guns protruded from his gauntlets, and a jetpack was mounted on his back. He could've been a robot, he had so much tech on him.

"Sith aren't so decent. But whatever _he_ is, he can't stop us," added a second bounty hunter. He was dressed in largely customized Mandolorian armor, (complete with Jaig eyes on the forehead of the helmet), and with lightning quick reflexes, he pressed a button on his left gauntlet that fired a dart at the hooded man's collar. Just as it was about to stick him, I watched as it stopped in midair, and then was hurled back in the Mando's direction. He managed to dodge just before the dart penetrated through his neck.

"Come on _you fools_; we have _no_ time for _dilly-dallying_!" commanded a third bounty hunter. He looked more or less like a civilian, but he had sashes adorned with all kinds of bombs and knives and magazines to accompany his machine gun and several smaller pistols (which probably wasn't the end of his arsenal). "Now, Chithi'kio'naasisant," he said, with perfect Cheunh pronunciation, "we have _unfinished business_."

Immediately, they were all flung through several walls, and then down several floors by the power of the Force. I flinched at the various crashing sounds that were made. Before the Sith ran off to combat these new foes, he exchanged a very quick glance with the man whose life he saved. The man nodded to his savior, ran out of the bar, and then jumped onto a passerby's speeder, flying away at immensely rapid pace.

After I saw that man ride off, I went back to follow the path of broken walls and screaming voices this Sith pretender was leaving in his wake. Slowly, but surely, those bounty hunters would teach him a lesson; _never underestimate your enemy_.

The ebony cloaked Sith would find he was outmatched and outnumbered; only in a short while did the Mandolorian hunter manage to snatch away the man's lightsabers, and the trigger-happy hunter pinned him to a wall. He nodded to his Mando companion, who then darted out the door with the shiny, silver hilts clipped to his belt, boarded his speederbike and zoomed rapidly away. The Sith struggled to get away from the two bounty hunters that remained, but before he could throw more than a kick or two, he was bound hand and foot, and now completely helpless and disarmed, too, except for the Force.

Maybe you're wondering about me. I watched this whole thing from the rafters, concealing myself as if I, myself, were a shadow. It's unlikely that even this Sith has sensed me.

Next, the cloaked Sith began to object to this disadvantageous turn of events, and quickly, the hunters became annoyed. Honestly, this guy makes too many mistakes… The fully-armored hunter stabbed him in the neck with a needle dipped in a strong sedative, and minutes later he was asleep. They then stuffed him into a sack, threw him into the backseat of their landspeeder and drove off. What an idiot! Getting himself sacked—_literally_—by a trio of bounty hunters! Pff. I could've taken those guys _easily_.

Now, this part here'll sound a bit indecent on my part, but I had to keep up with them. You can't leave a good story like this hanging, you know! In my haste a stole a speederbike of my own and kept up as closely as I could with the hunters, concealing my frequency to use my comlink in order to eavesdrop on them.

"Banshee," said the hunter decked in ammo through his comlink, "we'll rendezvous. That Sith kid, or whoever he was, is nicely taken care of."

"Pathetic," I heard Banshee reply. "I'll meet up with you soon."

"Good." He then pressed a button that ended the comm-session. "Faster, Chex, we can't afford to be late, or else Khuram'll have our heads."

"I know it, Roger," Chex replied.

* * *

Now, we've been riding for a couple of hours. Turns out I'm a better dogger than I thought. I had only lost them once or twice the entire time. Of course, there was the possibility that they actually had seen me and they were letting me follow them, but these are bounty hunters we're talking about here…

I started to make my way closer to their speeder amidst the traffic, but not too close, I don't want to be too obvious. That's when I saw something stirring in the backseat; it was that Sith pretender. They hadn't tied up the sack, so he was able to wriggle out of its embrace, but his hood also fell off in the process. From what I could see, it seemed that Chex and Roger had fallen asleep, and the speeder was put on autopilot mode.

That's when a massive honking noise came up from behind me, along with frustrated and angry exclamations. Turns out I had missed the traffic signal, and I'd been holding up traffic. "Sorry, I'm so sorry!" I shouted to the upset crowd as I sped forward, reopening the circulation of the traffic. And then, when I turned my eyes back to the road, I had lost them. Gah! The only exciting thing I actually got to do in ages and ages—ripped away from me because of my lack of focus!

Stang.

I kept going though, accelerating, hoping I'd see them in this fray, but it wasn't so. I had _really_ lost them this time.

And then that black hooded Sith pretender landed on the back of my [stolen] speederbike. I turned my head sharply to look at him, and we just stared at each other for a few moments, not saying anything. Then his eyes shifted suddenly, his expression changed and he shouted, "Look out!" My head turned as quickly as humanly possible and I immediately swerved, avoiding a terrible accident involving several deaths.

"Gah!" he said.

"What!?"

"They're after me!" I looked behind us again, and the speeder carrying those two thugs was quickly gaining. "Floor it!"

"Why should I?"

"This is life or death, here!"

I did what he asked, but not because he asked me, but because I wanted to get in on this excitement. You don't get to be a part of an epic chase scene every day! "Hold on a second, why are they after you?" I asked.

He hesitated a while (mainly because we were busy swerving around vehicles and dodging blasterfire), but then he took something out from his cloak. "Because of this." It was a datachip. That must be some very important intel if they want it this badly.

"Where did you get that?"

"From that Chiss. It's what they were _really _after, but they were going to kill him because he wouldn't give it up."

"You've got yourself into quite a predicament."

"I know, I know, I know." We both ducked as we avoided an EMP grenade that would've short-circuited the speederbike had it touched it. "What do I do now?"

I looked away from him, and down into the traffic that flew by beneath us, and that's what gave me the idea. I put the speederbike on autopilot mode and stood up, trying very hard to keep my balance. The Sith looked up at me confused.

"What are you doing!?"

"Follow me, okay? I have an idea!"

We both jumped off of the speederbike, crashed through a glass window, and ended up in a room with an elevator in it, and a keypad beside the door on the wall.

"The Coruscant Underworld… Nice," he remarked. I input a ground level, the elevator opened, making a _ding_ noise, and just as we entered and the doors closed, that Banshee character came around the corner shouting bloody murder and firing his rifle at us. "Phew. That was close," he said, and smiled. Kind of a strange time to smile, if you asked me. But still, I smiled back and sighed, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

"Who _are_ you?" I asked after a few moments of silence.

"I am Darth Namialus."

"So, you _are_ a Sith, then?"

"I prefer to think of myself as a rogue with _honor_."

I looked at him puzzlingly. "You are the strangest being I think I ever have met."

He laughed. "You try to insult me; it's amusing. I take it you are some kind of Jedi, Miss…?"

"Crescent. _Natalie_, Crescent. And yes, I am a Jedi Padawan." He smirked.

"You disgrace your Master."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and he laughed again. "What, may I ask, do you mean by _that_?"

He gave me no answer, but his smirk lingered. I rolled my eyes.

Finally, we arrived at our destination; Level 1215. The elevator shaft doors decompressed as they opened, and to our dismay, standing there, waiting for us was all three of those bounty hunter scum.

_Stang._

The last thing I remember was hearing someone calling my name.

* * *

Hours later—or was it days?—I woke up, lying on a cold, hard floor, with a pounding headache, and no strength or resolve was amounted in me. I was feeling nauseas, yet I was hungry. And where was I anyway? My vision was a little blurry, and I closed my eyes and covered my mouth just then as I had a coughing fit.

"Crescent?" said a voice. "Are you alright?" I rubbed my eyes and looked up. It was the Sith pretender, Namialus.

"Yes, augh, I'm okay, I guess…" I held my stomach and moaned. "Was that chloroform? I feel awful…"

"No, it seems you're not okay. Here, you should lie down some more; sleep some more, if you can," he advised, leading me to the corner where he was sitting. He took off his cape and hood and crumpled it up for me to use as a pillow, and made me lie down. I closed my eyes and tried to fall back asleep, but it was denied me, so I just rested and listened to my surroundings.

There was a constant humming, probably a motor of some kind, and the room was big, so we must've been in some kind of cargo vessel. There were small, distant voices that I didn't recognize. They probably belonged to some ship staff. That's when a younger man dressed in civilian's clothes entered the room with a tray of food.

"You two are lucky the cooking here doesn't suck Bantha fodder," he said. I opened my eyes a little bit so I could see him. He was kind of short, but that attributed to his age—he was taller than me, anyway. He slid the food-tray through a special opening in the forcefield that kept us in our cell, and walked over to a chair by a row of control panels and gauges. He filled out something on his datapad, and then walked back over to us. "Name's Obi." He made a pause, and Namialus just stared at him with a blank expression. "And you are…?"

"Namialus," he replied sharply. "That's Crescent."

"No need for hostility, now."

"Tch."

"Okay, maybe there is… we did just capture you and stuff…" My friend rolled his eyes and passed me the tray and had me drink the cup of cool water that was provided us.

"You are a fool," remarked the Sith.

"Who's more foolish, the fool, or the fool who follows him?" Namialus glared. "Alright, alright. I guess this isn't the time for deep sayings." Then this "Obi" fellow looked around, saw that no one was there except us, and leaned forward a bit. "You know," he said in a whisper, "I can get you out."

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

_Author's note:_

This is how us Luminous Beings came together in the beginning. Check out FentonHardyFan's account to see a more recent story involving those from the Nexus Route, and check out Darth Namialus's account for the second chapter in a few days!

Ciao, and thanks for reading! :D Please R & R, I really appreciate that! :D


	2. Chapter 2: The Foolish Hero

Please follow this link to read Chapter 2: The Foolish Hero, written by Namialus. Enjoy! :D

s/9230697/2/The-Luminous-Beings


	3. Chapter 3: Rocky Ground

Lola Sayu was _just chock full_ of surprises. I didn't think much life could even be sustained on this volcanic half-rock. I know the Citadel was aboveground, but it was a superscructure, built to contain even the best of the Jedi, and obviously heavily armored, defended _and_ air-conditioned (to keep deadly sulfate out). But now we find out about _underground cities_? What's next? Breathing in these sulfates in the air is not helping my upset stomach, either…

"Obi, where _are_ you taking us?" I groaned.

"_Be quiet_, Nat," he said.

"Don't call me 'Nat'!"

"Alright, alright—_Crescent_—just, be _quiet_!"

I didn't know where we were headed, but the entire area looked like a really rusty black market of some kind; or a smuggling operation. Either would make sense, but actually, I didn't care. I just wanted to _get off_ this hot, sulfate-infested wasteland.

Obi told us to wait in the speeder he was toting us along in, and disappeared through a furtive entrance in a wall.

Namialus and I were both hooded to make sure no one could see our faces, as Obi instructed us to do. It was very quiet in this place, except for a few voices having a hushed conversation and the crackling of a fire or two, (or more, I couldn't actually tell.) There was no moon to accompany the nighttime setting, (there was neither one to see, nor an ability to see it even if there was one: we _were_ underground, after all), but when you looked up, any light that caught on the crystals embedded in the ceiling reflected within it and cast many small, colorful lightshows all around. I gazed at them a while, but it was quite awkward just sitting there next to my Sithy companion in _complete silence_.

It was broken, however, by my comlink beeping. Quickly, I answered it so as to shut off the beeping. Unexpectedly (although it shouldn't have been, considering I had been absent for a long while), my master, Kit Fisto, appeared on the hologram. I had _completely and entirely_ forgot about my life as a Jedi; I was so deeply consumed with having my adventure.

"Where _are_ you? What are you _doing_? Are you _hurt_?" he demanded.

"Master, I'm fine, _just fine_, so _please_, stop asking so many questions!" I said. "And also, please, lower your voice a bit!"

"I need your location so I can come and get you," he said.

"Uh, you _don't need_ to come get me, Master," I replied, trying to be independent or maybe impudent (but actually, I was just trying to get him to forget about it so I could continue on my escapade). Namialus's staring at me was not helping anything, either.

"That's absurd! Tell me where you are so I can send the—" I hung up. I silenced _my own master_ with a single touch of a button, and beside me the Sith pretender began to laugh at me. I sideways glanced at him before reconfiguring my comlink and rolling my eyes at him. That's when Obi suddenly resumed his place in the drivers' seat of the speeder.

"Well?" said the Sith pretender.

"We have a freighter to get us to Coruscant," he replied unenthusiastically. He revved up the speeder, and we trekked further into the city.

"Wait, you mean _now_?" I asked: because I was tired, my stomach was still in knots from the chloroform, and I wanted to _sleep for a_ _long while_, not suffer through a journey on some cargo ship _all the way to Coru-freaking-scant_!

"No," he replied. Whew… I couldn't see his face, but I could just sense his annoyance and that he was glaring. But yet, I wondered; why did he mutiny against his superiors and rescue us? "We're leaving tomorrow morning. I'm taking us to an inn so we can rest and eat something."

"Oh, good," I said, sighing relief and leaning back into my cushy speeder seat. "Hey, Obi."

"What?"

"Why did you risk your life trying to saving us back there?"

There was a silence. "Khuram needs to be stopped. I figured with a duo like you two, maybe, just maybe, it could be done."

* * *

The inn was certainly nothing to write home about. Very dingy, and dirty, and filled with small insects. "Ew!" exclaimed my Sith friend. I laughed at him. "This place is disgusting!" He kicked some rocks and metal scraps into a corner in our room. "Um, and I'm supposed to sleep here?"

"Stop bellyaching, Darth," I said, putting my boots on the coffee table and making myself comfortable in a second bed. "You could be sleeping outside in the bugs' beds, you know." He didn't reply, but I heard him plunk down on his bed. Then Obi walked in with a blanket on his arm and a tray filled with food.

"Here. Eat your fill." I grabbed the first thing that looked good and ate it.

"What about you?" asked Darth, he himself reaching for something that caught his eye.

"I ate." Then he sat down in a deep, wingback chair, put his feet up on the coffee table beside my boots, covered himself up with the blanket, and was asleep within minutes, while Namialus and I finished the entire tray of food and the water and juice that was provided. Then I covered myself up with my bed blanket and fell asleep in the dimness of the room.

* * *

It was unbelievably—and definitely surprisingly—chilly the following morning, especially considering the fact that Lola Sayu was volcanic. Darth and I wore thick capes, pulled our hoods closer over our ears, and tried to keep warm under some heated blankets as we waited in the speeder for Obi to come out of the inn.

"Here he comes," I said, noticing his darker clothing and thick overcoat.

"Good morning," greeted Namialus as Obi assumed his drivers' chair and started up the speeder. He didn't get a reply. Obi seemed a little upset for some reason.

The rest of the ride was completely silent, save for some loud insects, the occasional bark or meow of some stray domestic animal and the hum of the engine. Unfortunately, the speeder didn't have a convertible rooftop, so by the time we arrived at our destination, our faces were red and numb from the chill of the wind.

Speaking of our destination, where were we, exactly, anyway? It just looked like the front of a building that jutted out of a rugged wall like a sore thumb. Obi parked the speeder, and, with a bit of an argument, made us leave behind all but one blanket, and then led us to the door. He knocked on it in an odd pattern (probably to indicate he wasn't a stranger), and then a pair of eyes appeared in a rectangular cutout in the door.

"What?" the voice that belonged to the eyes said gruffly.

"It's me, Obi. Lemme in," our companion replied.

Gesturing to the Sith pretender and I with a motion of his eyebrows, the voice said, "Who're your buddies?"

"They're just that, Dek."

Eyeing us in an inspective manner with one eyebrow raised, the pair of eyes looked us all over; he seemed to be trying to figure out whether or not we were imposters, or spies, or whatever. Wise of him, but it was a waste of time, especially since he seemed to know Obi from quite a bit before then; he had reason to trust him. His eyes then disappeared from the peephole and the door swung open, revealing a good-sized hangar bay with lots of good-sized ships inside. Many people ran to and fro, loading and unloading goods from ships. But, we were underground, so how exactly did they get out of here…?

"Obi, what _is this place_?" asked Namialus, clearly impressed with the complex. His eyes darted around quite a bit, observing everything and absorbing details. I noticed several scowling faces who didn't like it one bit.

"Smuggler bay operation. One of Lord Khuram's setups. Basically, illegal import and export," replied Obi bluntly and directly.

"Annnd, we are here, because _why_?"

"Because I've got a buddy here who _owes me a favor_."

"How is this relevant?"

"Just _shut up and sit tight_, will ya?" He meant that last part literally. He pointed to some chairs and told us to sit there and wait for him while he went to talk to his 'buddy'. As he disappeared into a small crowd of pilots and ship crew, we both sat down in uncomfortable plastoid stools.

"He's very rude," remarked my Sithy friend about Obi. I glanced at him.

"Well, that's just the way he is," I reasoned. "And besides, he's got to be annoyed toting two escapees around with him all the time."

"Maybe. But still, his attitude could be better."

"You should be more grateful. He could've left us in those bounty hunters' clutches, but he decided to help us. He's done much more for us then we ever have done for him, Darth." I knew what I was saying was aggravating him, and I added the 'Darth' at the end just to make sure he was thoroughly annoyed. He just looked at the floor and said nothing.

"Hey!" a sudden shout came from across the bay. It was obviously Obi's irritated tone beckoning us to him. We followed it until we reached a medium sized frigate that looked like a Republic model, but was beat up and the paint was chipped and scratched and soiled all over. When we walked around the nose of the ship, we came upon Obi, and a brown haired, brown eyed man, who was several inches taller than Namialus and dressed in clone armor. "Crescent, Darth," Obi began.

"Namialus!" corrected the Sith.

"Yeah, whatever." He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "This is the friend that I mentioned, Gamma."

"What's up, guys?" he asked, smiling, with his arms crossed. None of us dared answer that question. "So, anyways; I'm going to be your pilot today. Where y'all headed?"

"I'll tell you when we're all safely packed away in the cargo hold," replied Obi, lowering his voice to a whisper. Getting through smuggling protocol is very difficult a task and I knew, because of that, I would hate what I'd have to go through to accomplish that straightforwardly…

* * *

"Stop squirming, _you farthead_!" scolded Obi.

"I can't help it! It's so cramped in here, I'm going to _suffocate_ before we even get into the frigate!" complained Namialus.

"Everyone, _shut kriffing up_! Someone'll hear us!" I retorted. "You guys are impossible!"

Just then, a company of voices and footsteps entered the room where all the spice boxes were held. They talked about the latest game, and some news developments one of them heard on the HoloNet while they piled a bunch of cruisers up with those boxes. And guess where we were…?

That's right…

_In the boxes…_

Stang. Couldn't those fodderbrains come up with anything less painful?

I suddenly held my breath as one of those crewmembers picked up the box I was in and carried me to Gamma's frigate—or, I hoped it was his frigate. And since no passengers were allowed in these smuggling ships, even Obi was forced to be stuffed inside a spice box. How lucky. Suddenly, I was knocked against all the inside walls of my tight little box as it was thrown into the cargo hold. _You'd think they'd take a bit better care of the source of their income_, I thought. Lots and lots of other boxes were thrown in after mine. I just hoped to the Force I didn't get buried all underneath them… that would be problematic.

I heard a squeaky, metallic door shut that I assumed was the door for the hold. Then I saw faint light come through the cracks in my box, and I heard the engine start up. That's when Gamma's voice said over the intercom, "Hello and good afternoon, this is your captain speaking. If you are a stowaway in a spice box, you are now safe and free to move about the frigate. Thank you."

I rolled my eyes and tried to pry open the lid of my box, but it didn't work. So, I tried using the Force gently. There was a weight on top of the lid, so there were probably a bunch of other boxes on top of me… great. "Hello?" I said. "Hello!" I echoed louder. "Namialus, Obi, can you hear me?" I said, louder still.

"I can hear you!" I heard Namialus say.

"Darth?"

"Stop calling me that, Crescent," he replied exasperatedly. I laughed. "Where are you?"

"Uhh, I don't know. I'm definitely buried, though. Are you out already?"

"Heck yes! I couldn't stand that box for another second." I laughed again, and heard him move some things around with the Force. I felt him reaching out to me with his mind to determine where I was.

"Have you found me yet?"

"Yup," he said, and then my lid came off with a _whoosh_, and landed in some corner with a _crash_. He offered his hands to me and helped me out of that small space. As I looked all around me and gathered my posture and balance again, I saw just mountainous piles of spice boxes.

"By the Force, that's a lot of spice!" I exclaimed.

"It is. We should probably get out of here soon, or the drug could begin to affect us."

"If that's the case, then I wholeheartedly agree. Where's Obi?"

"Good question."

"I'm over here, _you blockheads_," said Obi from the top of one of the tallest piles.

"And now it's been answered. Hello, Obi."

"Let's get to the cockpit. Gamma's probably expecting us."

"You don't have to be so rude," Namialus muttered to no one. I figured Obi heard, but he obviously didn't care. He didn't seem to care about too much as far as we were concerned.

Once we found our way to the cockpit, Gamma and Obi had a discussion about the route we would be taking (which was just directly to Coruscant, since that's where Gamma and his company happened to be heading anyway, and I don't suspect the fuel would run out until much later). But still, they discussed it, and discussed it, and discussed it some more, and in the meantime Namialus and I helped ourselves to comfortable chairs and replicator food, which was better than tasteless rations, anyway.

For the sake of the story, I'll just say that sleeping in a nice, clean bed in a place that had air conditioning was a luxury that all of us enjoyed that night, and by the time we got to Coruscant, it'd been two days, and on the second, about six and a half hours before we landed, (when Obi, Namialus and I were asleep) we refueled at an outer core planet.

When we arrived at Port, which was one of Khuram's secret smuggling bays, my two companions and I exited the back door while an inspection team made themselves comfy in Gamma's freighter. Undetected by anyone of importance (as far as we knew), we got ourselves another speeder, and blew that joint as quickly as we could.

"Obi, I need you to head further into the heart of the sector," the Sith requested.

"Why? We need to be elsewhere."

"It's _very important_. I need to get something that could mean _life and death_, Obi."

Obi deadpanned. "Fine," he yielded, pressing down on the accelerator with his foot.

Darth Namialus scanned the buildings all around him with a careful eye; I knew what he was looking for, so I joined him in the analysis of the area. It wasn't as easy to find as I thought it would be; we didn't find it very quickly anyway, but eventually the Darth spotted a shattered window leading to an elevator door. "There it is!" he exclaimed.

"What?"

"Move over a couple of lanes, Obi," the Sith pretender demanded, and then he jumped off the speeder and through the window once more, with the assurance, "I'll be right back!"

"What is that _idiot doing_?" Obi asked, looking at me. I shrugged.

"You might wanna follow him," I suggested. We parked outside the building and rushed inside. When we found an elevator door, we hurried and pressed the call button, only to find Namialus frantically searching around the shaft. Obi and I stared at him puzzlingly. "Um… is _anything wrong_?" I asked.

"No, no, no, no, no!" yelled Namialus. "It's gone, it's gone! But why? How? It can't be gone!"

"Namialus, what _is the matter_ with you?" I exclaimed.

"_The chip_, Crescent! The datachip with the _Nexus Route coordinates inside_! I hid it here when those scumbags found us because I knew we would be searched and I certainly didn't want _them_ getting it. But, now it's not here! And I'm _completely sure_ I placed it _right here_!" explained the Darth in a very rushed and anxious manner as he continued to search around, just in case he had missed it in his already thorough search.

"Are you _kriffing _kidding me?" I said, facepalming. "You really _are an idiot_."

"Hey, it's not like I put it here _just so_ it could be _stolen_!" he retorted. I could tell that he was angry. He crossed his arms and furrowed his brow, obviously frustrated, and trying to calm himself.

"You should really _get a grip_," said Obi after a moment or two of silence. The Sith and I eyed him skeptically. "The chip's got a tracking device. I can track it from my datapad's interface with the signal to pretty much as far as the Outer Rim Territories."

Namialus then resorted to banging his head against the wall. "Why didn't you _say anything_!?"

"I just did."

_Bang_. _Bang_. _Bang_. _Bang_, went Namialus' head on the wall.

"Like I said, get a grip, _Dark Lord of the 'Genius'_. Everything's fine."

Suddenly, a whirlwind of rapid footsteps thundered in the outside hallways, along with blasterfire, and loud, barking yelling and arguing that ricocheted off of the walls in a continuous loop. We all instantly froze; the Darth and I quickly drawing and igniting our lightsabers, and Obi armed the heavy duty blaster cannon that was strapped to his back. For a moment more, the shouting continued, and then there was five seconds of silence. No one moved. No one breathed. Silence.

Then, _bam, bam, bam_! went someone's blaster, cutting through the tension, and the air, like a knife through butter. Our lightsaber's humming served as a background noise to slow stepping sounds of three approaching figures; those figures, of course, were none other than Roger, Banshee and Chex.

"Okay, maybe it's not fine."

Roger spun his pistol between his fingers, blew the steam away from the barrel and then slipped it into his holster, beholding our little trio and smirking at us. "Keh. Well, well, if it isn't the _Sith pretender and the Jedi brat_," he said. Then he saw Obi and his enormous firearm, narrowed his eyes at him and mouthed "traitor".

Then he snapped, and suddenly Banshee had us thrown against walls and disarmed, and Namialus tried to use the Force to combat him, but he was simply to quick, and before he could realize it, the Mandolorian armor-clad man had him against the wall and bound in cuffs around his wrists and ankles. Of course, against such an enemy, that kind of head-on tactic won't work.

Since Obi wasn't a Force-user, he just fired at Banshee with all he had, but it didn't effect as much as he had probably hoped it would. While he continued to fire, (his ammunition supply seemed endless) I had disappeared into the shadows, carrying a small, but extremely powerful, pistol that I concealed on my person. No one suspected anything, except of course Namialus, who had seen me steal away.

_Bam_! One through Banshee's shoulder. _Bam_! Another, through his knee. _Bam_! Another, through his side, just for good measure.

Roger and Chex armed their weapons at this point. Roger would be easy to take out, but getting past Chex's superarmor would be quite a challenge.

I fired another three shots; one through Roger's hip, another through his knee and a final shot through his ankle. He collapsed to the ground, yelping in pain. Chex began to point his gauntlet blaster at moving shadows and things. "_Show yourself_!" he demanded. Right, like I'm just going to come out at his whim. _Hmm… I don't think my lightsaber can penetrate it. Come on, Natalie, think faster!_

And then I had a revelation. I fired several small pressurized darts at certain points in his armor, and then it began to depressurize. He panicked, and pressed several buttons in many sequences to try and stop the depressurization, but his efforts failed, and eventually he ran out of oxygen and collapsed on the ground. Then I used the Force to levitate the key to the cuffs out from Banshee's pocket and into the keyholes in both of the pairs that bound my Sith friend. They immediately ran off to the landspeeder and swung around the street side of the building we were in. As they came by, I jumped out of the window and landed, unsteadily, but nonetheless intact, into my place in the back seat.

The wind blew our hair and hoods as we whizzed through traffic far over the speed limit. "Natalie, _thank the Force_ for you!" Namialus said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "That was a _great_ save." He smiled.

I didn't show any outward emotion, but in all honesty, I was quite flattered that a Sith—of all people—chose to compliment me. I half-smiled and thanked him.

"Enough with the _flirting, you two_!" scolded Obi. "We've got a _chip to track_, and I've got _a signal_! Either of you know where we can get a starship?"

* * *

You would think us all-out criminals; we steal too many vehicles. But, this time we borrowed it, like good Coruscant citizens. It was a Corellian YZ class transport vessel, model number seven-seven-five; a scrapheap, but a good, wholesome one that hadn't fallen to pieces yet. It was called _Rusty Hailfire_, and was placed into our possession by yet another of Obi's "friends". (Honestly, Obi seems to know at least one person everywhere.)

Almost everything was tarnished and stiff from lack of use and most of the buttons required an extra shove if you wanted to push them. The seats were squeaky and the engine wasn't in tip-top condition either, so we were basically travelling through the vacuum of space by faith and hope.

"I really don't feel comfortable in this thing," said Namialus. I rolled my eyes and turned in my seat. He noticed, of course. Almost nothing could get by his sharp eyes. "Don't make that face, Crescent! I mean, really, this thing could disintegrate, especially if we were to get into some kind of brawl with someone." I sighed, and he furrowed his brow.

"Obi, where's the signal now? How close are we?" I asked.

"It's nearby," he said. "But it'll still be a bit before we find the source. Sit tight, guys."

And then we were hit. The lights dimmed and were replaced with blinking, red ones. Sirens flared and indicators flickered, showing that multiple systems were either affected, damaged, or failing.

"Staaaaang," moaned Obi at the sight.

"What did _I tell you_, Natalie!?"

"_Shut up_, Namialus!"

"I think we just found the source," declared Obi. Then an orange light began to flash, and he pressed a corresponding button. It was a hail.

In the blue hologram that appeared in front of us was a short girl, probably about my own height and age, but her voice and speech patterns were far more mature. "Greetings," she said. "You may be wondering about the explosion you experienced just now. We—"

"Yeah, yeah, I really don't care. We're here because you've got something that doesn't belong to you," interrupted Obi. She seemed perturbed that he would be so rude.

"Which is?"

"Any chance you found a datachip in the North Tower building lift that has access to the Underworld?"

To this she would not reply, but instead she invited us onto her ship so we could discuss and get a better understanding of the situation. We were welcomed into a very clean, polished and chromatic vessel. It seemed more like a luxury ship, but there were controls for weapons like torpedoes and blasters as well; and they weren't auxiliary functions, they were the full-fledged real-deal weapons.

"What did you want to talk about?" asked Obi, glancing around, but mostly just staring at the ceiling. That's when a taller male walked in, who looked about 17, maybe 18 years old.

"This is my younger brother," the girl said. We all marveled at "younger". "Our droid found the datachip you mentioned."

"Great!" exclaimed Namialus. "Could you give it back? It's kind of important, and we're in a rush."

"Not so fast," the young man said. "We've got a bit of a predicament, and we believe you are just the people to help us." We all exchanged glances when the droid they mentioned walked into the room.

It was a tall droid, to be sure; 2.5 meters(!). He was polished, black chrome all over, with green, glowing eyes and weapons built into his arms and legs. By the looks of him—that is, if I'm not mistaken—he must be a Krath war droid.

"This is the droid," said the girl. "He's an old, restored Krath droid from the Old Republic era. MD-180, and he cost quite the pretty penny, too."

"We joke around and say the 'MD' stands for 'mindless droid'." No one laughed, but I wanted to.

That's when that droid just had to prove he was mindless, and he tripped over his own feet and landed face-down on the floor. "Uhhhh…" he moaned. "Oops." We all rolled our eyes, and the girl patted his head.

After a moment of silence in honor of the death of that badly-timed joke and MD's awkward interruption, Namialus asked, "What's this problem you've acquired?"

"We've been framed…" said the sister.

"…for murder," concluded the brother.

"Murder!?" I exclaimed. I was getting nervous. Namialus sensed this and placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Yes," said the brother. "I'll let Sister tell you the story, since I'm no good at that."

"Well," she began, "we noticed a lightsaber hum and grunting coming from a concealed area; of course, that's an instant red flag. We armed ourselves and went to investigate. There was a Nautolan Jedi there, fighting this Clawdite. Surprisingly, the Clawdite was winning, and then we both called him out just as he fired five consecutive shots into his chest. He immediately shapeshifted into a woman and started screaming at us that we had just killed that Jedi, and it was certainly believable to anyone who heard, since we had our blasters drawn. Of course, the police won't believe us, so we had to run."

"Sounds like a buttload of fun," said Obi sarcastically.

"Indeed," said the sister, playing along.

"That Clawdite has some nerve! And now, karma's gonna come back to bite him," declared the brother.

"Why are you telling us this?" asked Namialus, assuming a posture that indicated he was thinking.

"Because, we're going to have a deal," he replied. "In exchange for the proof of our innocence and the imprisonment of that scumbag criminal, we'll give you your chip back." He looked at Namialus with a knowing expression and his hand on his pocket. Was that where the chip was? Hm… well, I have the Force. I could whip it out of there and we could scram and be on our merry way; but honor and dignity told me no. The other two ended up agreeing with the siblings, and so we had an alliance. Two Siblings, a Jedi, a Sith [pretender], a mechanic-turned-adventurer, and a mindless droid.

Suddenly, the lights shut off, and a red lights and a siren were its substitutes. "Brother, go see what's the matter!" The young man was easily able to sprint to the control center and get a read on the situation.

"A company of gunships, Sister!" His eyes widened and his face paled when he looked at the radar. He gulped, and looked his sister in the eyes. "We're surrounded."

Namialus, Obi and I rushed to the window, and were blinded by the brightness of the headlights on the gunships. We saw clones with red decals on their armor; they were part of the Coruscant police; Commander Fox's company.

"Oh, dear," remarked the Sith, drawing his hood lower over his face.

"That's not good," I said, shielding my eyes.

"Well, there's one thing that's for sure," said Obi. "We're in for _one Corellian hell_ of a ride."


	4. Chapter 4: A Chase of Innocence

This is Chapter 4: A Chase of Innocence, written by Namialus! :D He posted this sometime yesterday, but I'm a slowpoke, so here, :P : s/9230697/4/


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